Temporarily Permanent
by iwandamonian
Summary: A year after The Last Stand, Scott is found in a nameless city by Logan, and together they journey back to the mansion. Along the way, they meet a surprising comrade. And with the mysterious Parasites running around, can the X-Team defeat the enemy?


Scott Summers was a Mutant who couldn't control his powers on his own; he needed special ruby quartz glasses to wear at all times so he wouldn't blast anyone to smithereens. But he'd lost his glasses more than a year ago, after his ex-fiancée Jean Grey had taken them off because she'd been able to 'control' his optic blasts. Unfortunately, during their heated make out session, she'd nearly killed him; he'd escaped although he could no longer open his eyes. He had wandered for days before someone had found him, and taken him to as mall town in Canada; he had stayed there for another few days to regain his strength before leaving to find somewhere to live.

He hadn't gone back to the mansion because everything there would remind him of Jean, and he couldn't stand that; after hitchhiking for two days he'd found a small town that was so small it didn't even have a name to live in, and he'd bought a small apartment there. He had no idea what it looked like but didn't much care; he only left to go to the grocery store next door and it was only small trips. He had no phone, no TV and only an old mattress as his only item of furniture. There was a shower and a toilet, and probably a mirror but Scott couldn't see his reflection so it was never used; the kitchen was hardly used either, as he only ate tinned and packet food.

He stayed in the nameless town for over a year and had planned to stay longer had a certain adamantium boned Mutant decided not to show up. Scott was in the grocery store restocking his supplies of tinned foods when he heard the familiar grunt:

"Got any cigars?"

He froze, and held his breath as he listened to the clerk fumbling for cigars. Scott had been sure that Logan would just leave after attaining his precious cigars but his heart stopped when he asked where the tinned foods were.

"Where that blind man's standin'," the clerk replied and then Scott felt a presence beside him.

"'Scuse me, sir," Logan said.

"Sorry," Scott responded automatically and they both froze, Logan because he recognised the voice and Scott because he knew the other man would. If he hadn't opened his mouth, Logan would have left and Scott's life would have gone back to the way it had been.

"_Cyclops_?" Logan asked in amazement. "Holy…!" Logan grabbed Scott's shoulders and turned him to face him, so he could properly examine him. He wouldn't have recognised the ex-X-Men hidden under the shaggy brown hair and unkempt beard. "Man, everyone thought you were dead! We found your glasses at Alkali Lake but no you, so we assumed…" He laughed awkwardly, a first to Scott's ears. "Everyone's gonna be stoked when I bring you back. So, c'mon. Where's your house? Let's grab your junk and…"

"Logan," Scott said quietly. "Not here." He then shuffled out into the cool autumn air and towards his apartment, Logan a few bewildered paces behind him. Scott pushed open his door, as he didn't lock it, and then dropped down on his mattress.

"Christ," he heard Logan mutter. "You _live_ here? This place is a dump!"

"Well, it's not like I can see it," Scott snapped bitterly. "It was all I could afford, anyway."

"You could have come back to the mansion," Logan suggested as he sat down beside Scott.

"No," Scott said in a low voice. "I'm not ever going back."

"Why not?" Logan asked. "It's not like you were banished or anything, and Storm would be more than happy to have you back."

"Storm?" repeated Scott, confused. "What about the Professor?"

Logan shifted uncomfortably on the mattress and then pressed a warm hand to Scott's bare arm. "He's dead…he died a while ago."

Scott felt like an atomic bomb had just been dropped on his head. "Wha…? _How_?" he asked hoarsely. Ever since Charles had become his substitute father, he'd thought that the old telepath couldn't be killed.

Logan seemed reluctant to spill, so Scott pressed him.

"Logan, you have to tell me."

"You won't like it though," was the faint reply.

"Logan, tell me." Scott was almost in tears.

"You won't like it."

"Just fucking tell me!" Scott yelled, reaching out blindly and grabbing the man's wrist. Taken aback by Scott's use of colourful language, Logan told him.

"It was Jean," he said softly, and felt the other man tense. "After we found her at Alkali Lake and no you, we brought her back to the mansion, me and Storm. The Professor said something about the barriers he'd put around the subconscious part of her mind had dissolved or something, and that there was another personality there." He paused. "Its name was Phoenix, and she was dangerous. I…when she woke up, I asked her about you and she started going haywire; she knocked me out and when I came to, she was gone and almost everything was destroyed.

"Storm, the Professor and I went to her house, but Magneto was there with his brotherhood, and we could tell something was going on. So Storm and I entered the house…well, I was thrown in but anyway; Jean's power had grown extensively by then and she lifted the house off the ground…everyone was pinned to either a wall or the roof, and…" He stopped and Scott applied more pressure to his wrist. "She tore him to shreds, and he let her."

Scott knew he was crying but he made no move to wipe the tears. "And…what happened to…Jean?" he asked, forcing himself to say her name.

Logan sighed sadly. "She died as well, at Alcatraz Labs. She was killing everyone and I was the only one who could stop her. She was tearing everyone to shreds, just like the professor, and when I was close enough, she asked me to kill her." Scott dropped his head and silently cried; Logan's arms awkwardly wrapped around his shoulders and for the second time, Scott cried on Logan. He cried for Charles, for Jean and for his stupidity at leaving his home.

Hours later, Scott was asleep behind Logan on his motorbike, heading for Westchester; after he finally stopped crying, Logan packed his few belongings (mainly food supplies) and helped him out to his motorbike. They rode for three hours before Logan stated it was too dark to continue and stopped the bike in a small town, one he'd been staying at before he'd been recruited as an X-Men. Laughlin City was a small city, barely warrant of the name, according to Logan, with a large bar; mainly it was just a stop for truckies to stretch their legs and gamble away their money. Scott could hear the yelling of triumph and of protest from outside, and it only got louder as Logan took his arm above the elbow and towed him along into the smothering warmth.

"Just like the old days," he heard Logan mutter and was then dragged towards God knew what.

"…thirteenth consecutive win, ladies and gentlemen!" A roar of boos caused Scott to jump, and Logan's grip tightened.

"Sit," he barked and Scott was pushed back onto a barstool. "Give us two beers, thanks," Logan ordered and a cold beer was slapped into Scott's hand.

"Logan," he asked, turning his head around. "What's going on? Why is everyone booing?"

"Huh? Oh!" Logan laughed. "I keep forgetting you're blind." Scott made a face, though Logan missed it. "There's a fight in the cage, and some chick has come out on top for thirteen fights. Everyone's getting pissed off about that, as well they should be. I remember that's what happened when I was here, back when I first met Rogue."

"Why don't you go and fight then?" Scott asked sarcastically. "Surely they'll welcome back an old fighter."

"I doubt they'd like that I've returned," Logan said, slapping Scott's back. "I took most of their money."

"Is there anybody out there who can best this creature?" yelled the commentator.

"Oi!" a loud female voice piped up. "Knock off tha insults or I'll knock yer head off! I ain't here t' be insulted, ya ratbag!"

"My apologies," the commentator said dryly. "But you are fairly hideous, what with the scar and all."

"T'ain't yer concern, is it?" the girl retorted, and then someone swore in pain. "Now who's gonna grow some balls an' fight me? All of ya are weaklin's an' I wanna good fight before I leave!"

"You heard her," the commentator bellowed. "Who among you men will take her on?"

"Go on, Logan," Scott said encouragingly. "I can feel your enthusiasm from here. Knock her dead."

"But she's tiny!" Logan cried incredulously. "I'd snap her in half, and besides: I'd have an unfair advantage. I have adamantium throughout my body."

"C'mon then!" the female fighter roared but no one seemed to want to fight her.

"Logan!" Scott yelled, pushing the other Mutant gently. "Go! Win! Prove to me that you're still that wild man I met all those months ago."

"How? You can't see a damn thing!"

"Just…stop splitting hairs and fight her already!"

"Fine, but if I kill her I'll blame you for pressuring me." He stood up. "I'll fight 'er!" he yelled, and everyone cheered as they looked at him. Unbeknownst to Scott, the girl in the cage was grinning wickedly as Logan took off his jacket and shirt and stepped into the iron cage. They stared at each other, taking in the body of the opposition; Logan raised an eyebrow as he saw the scar running down the left side of her face, and wondered how she had managed to receive it. She was wearing only khaki pants and a sportsbra, so the several tattoos she sported were on show; as he regarded her, she returned it with interest. He was well muscled, and although he had a hairy chest, she thought him to be quite attractive.

"All right, you two," the commentator said without his microphone. "Girl, you know the rules. Stranger…"

"I know 'em," Logan interrupted, and the commentator frowned.

"Very well," he said. "As usual, anything goes. Begin!" The bell chimed and the fighters just stood where they were; Logan rushed forward and tried to punch her in the stomach but she grabbed his wrist and twisted to the side. He flew right by her but quickly swung round and caught her in the shoulder. Then the real fighting began; punches were thrown left and right, and more than once Logan was kicked in the nether regions, much to his dislike. After ten minutes of straight fighting, both fighters were sweating profusely, and the girl's dirty blonde hair was plastered to her forehead and back.

"Your pretty good," she said, grinning at him as she wiped away the blood from her nose. He'd held back hitting her in the face, not wanting to damage her too much. "Much better than tha pussies this place usually holds."

"You're pretty good yourself," Logan panted, grinning back as they circled the cage rim. "Your size betrays the strength."

"It always does," she retorted smugly and then she surged forward, striking him fast in the stomach; her knee came up and connected with his nose and he heard the awful _crunch_ as his nose broke but didn't give it much thought, as it would heal in a few minutes.

"Getting tired, old man?" the girl taunted and Logan roared as he tackled her around the waist, pinning her to the blood and sweat covered floor.

"Not at all, kid," he said, grinning triumphantly. "You?"

"I can go for another few minutes or so," she replied cockily and then Logan groaned in pain as her knee, once again, connected with his groin.

"It's a good thing I don't want any kids," he muttered as she slid out from beneath him and began kicking him in the stomach and side. He knew that he'd get angry and really hurt her so he tapped out, much to everyone's dismay. Logan remained on the ground, panting and sweating freely when he felt someone kneel down beside him.

"That was a good fight," the girl said, grinning at him. She stood up as he rose to a sitting position, and held out his hand for her to take; he accepted it and she clapped him on the back, still grinning. "You wanna drink?"

"Nah," Logan replied, walking down the steps and through the grumbling crowds towards the bar where Scott was still sitting. "I already got one. But I might need another one in a few seconds."

The girl laughed and followed him to the bar; the inn was slowly losing customers and soon only a handful of people were still around. The three at the bar weren't talking, as they were listening to the news about Mutants.

"_And we've had several reports that Mutants are being sort out and hunted by humans, some have even been found hanging from trees or beams. Ever since the occasion of Brooklyn Bridge, Mutants have become a feared race..."_

"Christ," the girl spat. "Turn that shit off," she asked the barman and he agreed, flicking it to horseraces.

"…You don't like Mutants?" Logan asked quietly, sipping his beer and then having a puff of his cigar.

"It's not that," she said, inhaling cigarette smoke. "I just don't like tha way they're treated by us humans. It's not their bloody fault; they were born with those genetics an' anyone who kills 'em should be sent t' prison. They're still part of tha population an' there's a whole lot of 'em we don't know about."

"So you don't mind living around Mutants?" Scott asked, taking a swig of beer.

"Nuh," she replied. "In fact, most are friendlier than most humans, like you two." Both men spat out their mouthful of beer and turned to look at her, although it was impossible for Scott. She was laughing. "Yeah, most have that exact same expression when I announce I know wot they are. But don't worry: I never tell anyone. Besides, I'm lookin' for an old friend of mine, an' I heard there's some school where runaway Mutants run off t'. You two think ya can help me?"

"Uh…" Logan said and then grinned. "Sure; we're actually heading that way too, so…"

"Awesome," she said, and then grinned. "I'm Kara, by tha way. Kara Charlotte Dorman, but I like being called KC."

"KC," Logan tested and then grinned. "I'm Logan and that's Scott."

"Hi," KC said and looked around the almost empty inn; she spat out her mouthful of drink and then hurriedly turned back to the bar, lowering her head as if to hide herself. "Shit," she whispered. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit_!"

"What?" Logan asked. He looked around and saw a small group of young men enter the inn, swaggering towards the bar as if they owned the place. "You know them?"

"Unfortunately, yeah." She ducked her head until it almost touched the bench. "God, I hope they don't see me."

"What's going on?" Scott asked Logan, who was sitting beside him.

"KC knows a group of four young men and doesn't want them to see her."

"Why?" Scott asked, directing the question at KC.

"I went t' school with 'em an' I didn't much like 'em. If they see me, I'm dead. I need t' get outta here without 'em seein' me." She looked around, trying to see where an exit was. The only one was behind the group of men and she didn't want to walk straight past them without any protection.

"How about I distract them?" Logan suggested helpfully.

"Nah, that won't work." She sighed heavily and then gasped. "I got it!" She gripped Scott's arm, making him jump at the sudden gesture. "You, Scotty, you can be my cover. Aha, those bastards surely won't recognise me. Okay, get up."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Scott said as she hauled him from his stool. "What's happening?"

"Just shut up an' act drunk," she whispered fiercely and Scott frowned. "Please? If they see me, they'll wanna talk an' I don't wanna talk t' 'em. Okay, just like…I dunno, lean really heavily on me an' sorta…stagger a bit." Scott sighed in resignation and draped an arm over her shoulders. "Oh, wait!" He frowned and withdrew his limb; KC left his side and then came back a few seconds later. "Okay," she said, and he placed his arm around her again. She wrapped her arm around his back and he gently leaned against her. "Ya can lean better'n that, can't ya?" she whispered in disbelief, and he sighed again, leaning further onto her.

Behind him, he could hear Logan chuckling deeply in his throat and was about to yell at him when KC's grip tightened and he was nearly lifted off his feet and onto her shoulder.

"Christ!" he cried and would have stared at her in amazement had he not been blind. "Damn, how strong are you?"

"Pretty damn," she replied, chuckling. "Now, c'mon and lean properly." When Scott didn't respond she sighed. "Okay, if ya do this fer me, I'll do somethin' in return, how's that?"

"Whatever," Scott sighed and let his legs turn to jelly; KC gasped in surprise but managed to support him and began half dragging half helping him stagger towards the exit. Logan trailed behind them, trying to contain his laughter, and then watched as the four men turned to stare at the odd trio. Scott stiffened slightly as KC buried her face in his neck, pretending to lose grip on him and they 'eased' past the men, out into the cold night air. It was near dawn, and the sun was beginning to rise; as soon as the doors were closed, Scott straightened up and KC removed her arm, looking around.

"This way," Logan said, taking Scott's arm and steering him back to the bike. The girl followed happily, humming a tune only known to her.

"We'll lead," stated Logan as he handed Scott a helmet.

"Logan," Scott whined. "You've been driving all night and are probably tired. I know I am and I wasn't even driving. Can't we take a break?"

"Hey, you be quiet."

"Ya know you can use my trailer," KC said out of nowhere, making Scott jump because she was right beside him.

"You have a car?" Logan asked, snatching the helmet off Scott. "Where?"

"Round tha back, where no one'll try an' steal it. Don't know why they'd try t', anyways; it's a load of shit." She took a deep breath and Scott felt her shiver. "But it gets me from point A t' point B, and tha heater's fantastic."

"Sounds good," Logan said, and KC laughed.

"I'll just go get it, then," she said and left to do so. Suddenly, Scott grabbed Logan's wrist and the other man felt how cold he was.

"What?" asked Logan.

"Can we trust her?" he whispered, not knowing if she could still hear them. "I mean, she's a human, and they've been known to attack without warning."

"Scott, I do believe you've become paranoid." Logan laughed, and gently pried away his freezing hand. "We can trust her," he said. "I know we can; she's a good kid, that's for sure. And besides…she has a heater. My ass is freezing, and I can safely assume that yours is too."

"Why are you thinking about my ass?" Scott asked warily.

"Because it's so damn cute," Logan said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Honestly, I can feel how cold you are by your hands; why didn't you tell me?"

Scott sighed. "Because I'm a grown-up, and I don't need your help."

"Whatever," Logan sighed. "I'm not really in the mood for a fight so…let's just not talk. Here she comes."

Scott heard the approaching vehicle and waited patiently as KC and Logan loaded the bike into her trailer, wishing that he could see so he could do something to help. A few minutes later, the three were in the warm inside of KC's Ute, steadily eating away at the miles to Westchester, New York. After half an hour, Logan dozed off against Scott, who seemed a little uncomfortable that his shoulder had been turned into a pillow temporarily.

"So…" KC said, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. "Uh…you any better at talking t' anyone than I am?"

"Not really," Scott said, smirking. "How long have you been on the road?"

"Few months, since January I think but my mind is a confusing place so I wouldn't know." She cleared her throat. "You?"

"A few days," Scott replied nonchalantly.

"What were ya doin' before then?"

"Living in a nameless little town a few miles away and staying under the radar."

"Oh…" Silence again, and Scott thought that this time it would last but KC voiced a question that caught him by surprise. "How long you an' Logan been a couple?"

"Uh…we're not…we're not gay," Scott said, feeling embarrassed. "He might be but I'm not, I know that for sure." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "No, uh, Logan and I used to live together…with other Mutants, at the school we're going to, and then I left. I was gone for over a year and then he found me a few days ago. He convinced me to go back."

"Ohh," she said, and then began drumming her fingers again. "…Are ya sure ya ain't gay? 'Cause if ya are, I don't care. I ain't got nothin' against queers…"

"I'm one hundred percent sure I'm not gay," Scott said hastily. "I can't tell you if Logan is…"

"I'm not," he grunted and Scott jumped.

"You were awake?" he asked hotly, angry that he hadn't made it known sooner so he didn't have to get all of the questions.

"For a while," Logan replied, not sitting up. "But your voice is _so_ angelic that it woke me up." He sighed, and then shifted slightly so that his back was now pressed against Scott's shoulder. "Next time keep it down; my hearing is sensitive."

"I'm amazed that you can actually hear us over your snoring," Scott retorted, angry that Logan had made fun of his voice. It was going to be like the old days, where they were constantly at each other's necks.

"You know what?" Logan asked drowsily. "So am I…but I can hear you, so keep it down."

"Yes, boss," Scott mumbled and received an elbow in his ribs. After ten minutes of silence, Logan began snoring softly again and Scott sighed in relief. He felt suddenly drained of energy and dozed off, only to be woken up a few hours later when KC swore explosively.

"…Uh?" he asked, lifting his head.

"Damned police," she muttered, and then a cold draft swept through the cabin; Scott shivered and beside him Logan (who was still fast asleep) snuggled closer to his warmth. "Officer?" he heard KC ask in a sweet voice that didn't suit her at all.

"Licence and registration, please," came a new voice, a deep and gruff one that sent a shiver running through Scott…although that could have been the cold wind.

"'Scuse me," KC said, reaching over him into the glove box and pulling out the items the policeman wanted.

"Miss…Dorman?" he asked sceptically. "You do realise your registration is American?"

"That I do, sir," KC said. "I'm an American, an' I'm headin' back there right now with my friends."

"Friends…they gay?"

"Absolutely not," KC replied meaningfully. "They're just old buddies from long back an' are tired from their motorbike journey. That's their's in tha trailer, if ya wonderin'. We met up at Laughlin City an' decided t' travel together."

"How long you known 'em for?"

"Coupla months," she lied. "Tho' after tha split, we decided t' go our separate ways."

"What split?"

"Oh, that's kinda personal, an' I still get a little teary over it."

"All right," the officer said. "Well, besides the rego, you've got a faulty tail light on your trailer, and you were speeding."

"That's 'cause we were goin' downhill," KC said. "An' this Ute ain't exactly a light weight, is it? Prob'ly added t' tha momentum an' all."

"All right," the officer said again. "Drive safely, and get the tail light fixed."

"Thank you!" KC called as she wound the window up. "Nosy little shit-bucket," she muttered angrily as she started the truck and they began driving again. "Any of you's awake?"

"Yeah," Scott said, rubbing away the sleep in his eyes and yawning.

"You feelin' all right there?" she asked.

"Yeah, just tired." He yawned again and then shifted ever so slightly so as not to disturb the sleeping form of Logan. "How are you? You've been driving all morning, haven't you?"

"Yeah, but I'm cool with it. I'm generally a good driver, 'cept when stupid coppers like Jacobsen pull me over just t' have a little chat."

"So you know him personally and not because you break the law?"

"Yeah, we slept together an' he thought that he meant somethin' t' me but I was just _really_ horny." She began drumming her fingers on the steering wheel again.

"Wow," Scott said at length.

"What?" KC asked.

"That was very…open of you. Usually strangers don't admit things like that…even I don't tell my fia…" He broke off and sighed.

"You okay there?" KC asked, and he felt her hand on his arm. "Hey, do me a favour an' wake Logan up. We're out of Canada an' I have absolutely no idea where we're goin', an' you can't see."

Cautiously, Scott nudged Logan awake, and the older man grunted and groaned until Scott lost his temper and elbowed him hard in the ribs. With a snort, Logan bolted up and looked around, his eyes still half closed.

"What," he said crossly.

"She doesn't know where to go," Scott replied casually.

"Just follow this road…hey, why don't I drive? Surely you need to take a break from driving, and I could do with some entertainment."

"Really?" The van began to slow down and then it stopped. "Cheers, I could do with a nap." Doors opened and a cold wind blew through the cabin, causing Scott to shudder violently. The doors closed a second later and then the van began moving, slowly at first but gradually picking up speed. Scott heard KC sigh in relief beside him, and wished he could see, not for the first time. After another half an hour, Logan began talking.

"You nervous?" he asked quietly.

"About?" asked Scott.

"Seeing everyone again…I know I would be."

Scott swallowed and then shrugged. "I guess I'm a little nervous but who wouldn't be? Everyone thinks I'm dead, so you can imagine their surprise when I waltz back into the mansion saying, 'Hey there, you remember me, right? The guy you thought was dead?' Damn it, did you guys give me tombstone?"

"Uh, yeah, we did." Scott scowled. "Well what the hell were we supposed to do? We couldn't find you…"

"Was the Professor still alive?"

"Yeah, but he was a little caught up with trying to stop your psychotic fiancée from killing everyone!" Immediately, he regretted the words and he glanced at Scott to see how he fared. He looked like he usually did: a blank face and no emotion could be seen whatsoever. He cleared his throat awkwardly and then turned off onto a main road. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Don't like been woken up."

"Yeah, no kidding," Scott muttered. He sighed, thinking of anything to change the subject. "So…how long till we reach the mansion?"

"Couple of hours," Logan replied, secretly thankful of the subject alteration. He paused, as if what he was about to say was somehow complicated. "Hey, uh, how'd you get on with life when you lost your sight?" Scott was confused. "I mean, you'd been able to see and then suddenly you couldn't. Was it hard, going from seeing to blindness?"

Scott paused for a moment to think about his answer. "It was a first," he said slowly. "But I guess you stop caring after a while, because you know that no matter what you do, you won't be able to see and there's no point making a hullabaloo about it." He smirked. "You just need to get on with your life, and try not to miss sight too much."

Logan chuckled softly. "Are there any benefits to being blind?"

"I don't have to see your ugly face?" Scott put forward and Logan laughed pleasantly; it was highly contagious and soon Scott began laughing as well.

"Aw, c'mon, Scott," Logan whined, "you know how cute I am." That brought on more friendly laughter and the atmosphere lightened.

"You two sure ya ain't gay?" KC asked suddenly, scaring the men. She laughed and sighed, shifting closer to Scott and he stiffened as her head fell on his arm. Silence filled the vehicle again, and Scott found it hard to stay fully awake. Logan seemed to notice, as he chuckled and patted Scott's arm.

"You can go to sleep, you know," he said gently. "It's not like you'll be of any help if I need directions or not."

"Gee, thanks," Scott mumbled dryly but almost immediately went to sleep. He was plagued by the faces of Jean and the Professor, calling out for him to help but he couldn't do anything; he was being held back by someone, a woman by the size of the hand's, and he turned around to face his captor. KC was screaming inaudibly at him, a large cut running down the left side of her face; it was oozing blood, as if it were new. Looking past her, everything was on fire; it seemed to start from one large mass of scrap metal, a dark spiral of smoke rising high into the dark sky and embers jumping about playfully, ready to alight anything flammable.

Even though she was yelling at him it was as if someone had pressed the mute button, and only her mouth moved; he stared blankly at her as she tried to pull him away, towards a constellation of rocks. Slowly, he gave and she dragged him to the rocks, pushing him down to dirt ground and following him, shielding him with her body. Suddenly, he could hear everything.

"…LJ," she was saying over the crackling of the flames and gunfire. An explosion rocked the ground and she winced, looking around with wide eyes. "You'll be okay, if ya stay with me. I swore I'd protect ya, an' I don't mean t' let ya die. How's your side?"

"Sore," Scott rasped out. His voice sounded deeper, gruffer and it hurt to speak. "What happened to your face?"

"Nothin'," KC replied, peeking out over the rocks. "You just think about Sammy, an' how much she'll wanna tear all ya clothes off when ya see her again."

"She won't, Kara," Scott wheezed, grinning grimly. "She's into your brother, not me."

"Oh, bullshit!" KC hissed, grinning back. "He's a meathead; who'd wanna screw him?" She ducked down suddenly, covering him, her face inches from his and they both watched as a battalion of soldiers raced by their hiding place; KC sighed with relief as the last one disappeared from view and loosened her grip around him.

"Ya know," Scott found himself saying, staring up at her as she stared out at the flaming mass of metal. Her hair barely reached her shoulders, and it hung in loose curls, although they were matted and stained with dirt, mud and blood. She looked down at him and smirked. "I never would have made it this far without you, Kara. I would have dropped out of cadets a long time ago…"

"Then it's a good thing I didn't let ya, eh?" She chuckled as he smiled. "Well, let _me_ say it's been an honour servin' with ya, LJ, an' I doubt I woulda had as much fun if I'd let ya quit." She chuckled again. "But seriously, you can do tha whole 'thank ya speech' later, when we're safely back in America."

"They won't come for us, Kara," Scott said. "You know that, don't you?"

"They _will_," KC insisted, gripping his shoulders tighter. "They _will_ come for us; even though we're just lowly pilots…"

Scott chuckled, and then coughed, blood dribbling down his chin. KC saw this and wiped it away, looking tenderly and motherly at him. "_I_ might be a lowly pilot, but you're the captain."

"No, I ain't," KC muttered, smiling at him with teary eyes. "You're better'n me at bein' tha captain, 'cause you actually now what's goin' on around tha place when we're flyin'." He gave her a deadpanned look. "Me? Ya honestly think me a good captain?" She laughed, and shook her head. "Well, I guess I better take that as a compliment…but only this once! If it were any other time, I'd beat your ass int' tha ground. Ya hear me? I don't want any mushy mushy crap from ya, Lieutenant Leonard Jaspen."

"Yes, sir," Scott replied, giving her a feeble salute.

"Excellent," she said, smirking. She lifted her head to look over the rock formation and cursed. "I'm gonna go check out tha situation. You stay here, stay hidden, an' please try not t' die. I'd hate t' have t' tell ya sister about it."

"Yeah, she'd probably blame you."

"Like I'd care; I'll know tha truth." She rose to her feet and bent over, easing herself around the rock and disappearing from view. Scott sighed and laid back, his eyes slowly closing. He wouldn't admit he loved his captain; she'd probably murder him. He laughed at the thought; she really was special and so trusting. Something crunched, and upon hearing it he opened his eyes, thinking his beloved comrade had returned; instead, it was the enemy, a gun aimed at his forehead. The man spoke in a different language, and Scott frowned.

"You are American," the man suddenly said in English, his voice thick with accent. He then laughed mockingly. "See how easily we have defeated you?"

"If you're going to kill me, do it already."

"If you insist," the enemy said and Scott closed his eyes, hearing KC screaming and swearing. Then there was nothing.

Jolting awake, Scott heard someone yell in surprise, and he almost opened his eyes; quickly though, he squeezed them shut and waited for Logan to calm down. It took a few moments.

"Shit, dude!" he finally gasped. "What the hell is wrong with you, waking up like that? What, you have a nightmare? Oh, poor baby."

"Actually," Scott said, feeling slightly bedazzled, "I don't remember what made me wake up." He sighed and wiped his sweaty forehead. "But I know it was something…wait, why aren't we moving?"

"KC needs a pit stop," replied Logan sourly. "Damn she almost scared me as much as you did, just haphazardly sitting up and saying she needs to pee. God, I swear one of you two is gonna give me a heart attack."

"Uh-huh," Scott said, stretching. "Where the hell are we?"

"Oh, about an hour away from the mansion."

Scott felt his insides freeze up, and he gulped; Logan heard and sat down next to him (he'd been standing outside waiting for KC and stretching).

"You okay, Scott?" he asked gently, although his gruff voice made it sound rough. "You look a little pale."

"Just a little…apprehensive about seeing Storm again, and all the children." He hung his had. "Logan," he said softly, barely audible for even Logan, "is it wrong of me to feel ashamed?" He paused. "I disappeared and left everyone else to fight the bad guys and I guess Jean. I was only thinking of myself…"

"Dude, just shut up." Scott lifted his head and frowned at Logan. "It's not like you to be so wimpy, and frankly it's starting to piss me off. Can't you just, like, deal with it? I mean, I know that sounds insensitive, but seriously, I probably would have done the exact same thing in your place. And about feeling ashamed, you feel whatever the hell you want. It's not like I'm the Emotions Police or anything. I'm sure they'll all forgive you, although Storm will probably get really pissed that you let your appearance go. I mean, c'mon, man. What are you, a hobo?"

Scott would have stared at Logan incredulously had he been able to so instead he shook his head and laughed bitterly. "Same old Logan," he said.

"I'm gonna ask this once more: are ya sure you two ain't gay?"

Logan groaned in frustration and Scott sighed; dealing with KC was going to be fun…


End file.
